Test Subject 100
by LotanaDaScienca
Summary: Izzy Johnson is Aperture Science Test Subject #100. An normal 19 year old girl in storage. But when a mix-up occurs, she's woken up and mistaken for Chell! A new take on Portal 2. Swearing and some sexual innuendoes may occur.


Test Subject #100 (Chapter 1)

Izzy Johnson is Aperture Science Test Subject #100. An normal 19 year old girl in storage. But when a mix-up occurs, she's woken up and mistaken for Chell! A new take on Portal 2. Swearing and some sexual innuendoes may occur.

Chapter 1: Shitty Hotel Rooms

"You have been in suspension for ......" The voice the announcer trailed off, jolting me out of stasis out of sleep.

I, Isabelle 'Izzy' Johnson, test subject #100 rubbed my head, messing up her already messed-up brown hair. I blinked the sleep out of my bright grey eyes. Where the hell was she? In some kind of shitty motel room? And what was up the all the nines? Had I been asleep that long, or was the system glitched?

Someone knocked on the crappy wooden door across from the lumpy mattress. "Hello? Are-are you going to let me in?" A British voice called through the door. "Is anyone alive in there?"

"Hold on a mo'" I answered groggily. I stretched my legs and staggered to the door.

"I knew there was someone alive in there, I just knew it- AGGH!" I had opened the door.

"HOLY SHIT!" I stumbled backwards and fell on my butt. What the hell was that thing?

"You look terri-Erm, looking pretty good actually. If I'm honest." The blue-eyed sphere thing bumbled. I narrowed my eyes at him, offended. "May I come in?" He continued, moving forwards before I could protest.

"Is everything okay? No, wait. Don't answer that. I'm pretty sure you're fine." Was this guy/thing serious? Was it trying to make a joke?

"Who the hell are you?" I asked cautiously. "What are you?" I added as an afterthought.

It puffed itself up proudly. "I am Wheatley, a Personality Sphere!" I raised an eyebrow at him dubiously, but he didn't seem to notice. "I know all about you! That didn't tell me you could talk, though."

"Erm, what?" Why wouldn't I talk?

"Please prepare for emergency evacuation," The cool male voice pulled me put of stasis stated.

Wheatley's big blue eye (optic?) shrunk and he quivered with what seemed to be fear. "Prepare, prepare, that's all they're saying." He rushed. I bit my lip to keep myself from laughing. Despite the obvious multiple warnings from the cool, male voice, I couldn't help but smile at the sphere's ridiculousness. "I'm going to get is out of here. Hold on. Word of advice, up to you." Before I could ask Wheatley what the hell he was going to do, he raised himself up into a panel above my bed. Funny, I hadn't noticed that before.

The shitty motel room lurched forwards, and I slammed into the nightstand. "God dammit!" I swore, my sides bruised from the sharp wood corners. I clumsily dodged a lampshade and a few other random items before Wheatley lowered himself down.

"Now, most subjects do experience some cognitive deterioration after a few months, and you've been under for quite a lot longer," He refused to meet my gaze. "It's not out of the question that you might have a verrrry minor case of serious brain damage. D'ou understand?"

My jaw dropped. "FUUUUUU-" This was soooo not in the wavier I signed.

Wheatley caught my expression and cut off my obscenity. "DON'T PANIC, DON'T PANIC! It'll all be okay! Don't worry! I'll-I'll just get us out of here." I rolled my eyes. "Seriously do hold on this time." The sphere raised himself up into the ceiling.

I peered up after him. "To what?" I called after him. Of course, it'd be too much to ask for a reply, wouldn't it?

All hell broke loose as the motel room broke apart. From what I could see from the gaping holes in the sides of the now-even-more-shitty room, it was some kind of a box on a rail. And it looked like Wheatley was killing all the other people in the boxes as he blabbered on. "See, I hit that one; I hit that one."

"Be careful!" I screamed, terrified for my life. I swear to God, I did not want to die in a shitty motel room on a rail.

"Am I gonna make it? Can you see?" He yelled, repeatedly ramming the room into a pile of boxes.

"Wheatley!" I very nearly wailed as he rammed into a wall.

"Good news! That is not a docking station! So there's one mystery solved." He called down excitedly. "I'll have to attempt a manual override on this wall. Hold on, it could get a bit technical!" I dove behind the bed, kneeling and covering my head with my arms. I did not like the sound of manual override.

Wheatley rammed the room into the wall so hard, the front of the room and the wall were completely destroyed. What was left of the furniture went flying out, and I nearly went flying with it.

"Ta da! Manual override. Now, you'll be looking for the portal gun. It makes holes, not bullet holes, but- well, you'll figure it out! I'll meet you on ahead, alright?" And without further ado, I stumbled out of the shitty box feeling very nauseous.


End file.
